


337. ghost towns

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [243]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10016873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: Helena shoots Katja in the forehead. Helena shoots Beth in the forehead. The car goes spinning into the river. The end.





	

In the middle of a gold field, Helena breathes steady and then pulls the trigger. A bullet shoves its way through Beth’s skull; the car spins; Beth and Katja go whirling into the river. Helena watches the car sink and starts taking her gun apart. Maybe, if she’s lucky, Tomas will be proud of her.

_What the hell_ , says a voice – like her voice, only shaky. _No. No. No. What the hell._ No.

Beth is crouching by Helena’s shoulder. There is a bright red hole in the middle of her forehead. Helena reaches up to touch it and her fingers go right through. Bang.

“Hello, Lob,” she says, and puts her gun back in its case. “Are you my ghost?”

_That’s not my name_ , says Beth, only she isn’t Beth: that isn’t how Beth spoke. Helena would know, Helena has been following her for days. Beth didn’t move like that either. When Beth and Maggie met in the alleyway Beth was all sharp gestures that stopped being sharp, like bodies bleeding out and stumbling partway through. Like Maggie with a bullet in her. This isn’t Beth. Helena called her forehead, because it was funny, because of Pupok, but that’s not her either.

“So what is your name, ghost,” she says.

_I’m dead_ , says the dead woman with no name. _You – you shot me. You’re one of_ us _, why would you – how am I – oh, god,_ Kira _._

She keeps babbling to herself. Helena mostly ignores her, heaves her case towards her motorcycle, whistles to herself as she goes. She should maybe be more worried about this copy, but: the copy is dead, she killed it – whoever it was, if it wasn’t Beth – and so either it’s her own brain bringing her here (which she knows) or it’s God testing her (which she can bear). She gets on the back of the motorcycle.

“Bye bye,” she says. “Good night, not-Beth ghost.”

She leaves the woman frantically struggling towards the other side of the river and drives away.

* * *

When she gets back to the ship Tomas is not proud of her. Katja-Obinger had a briefcase, apparently, and Helena was supposed to get it – it would lead her to the others. She has no briefcase. Tomas screams at her and then leaves her, bruising, in the dark.

Helena’s ghost comes back. She shines, faintly; it doesn’t seem quite right that she should be brighter than Helena, if Helena is light. _Where are we,_ she says.

_Let me go_ , she says.

_We were just at the river,_ she says, _I don’t understand—_

“We are connected,” Helena says. She’s just thinking of it herself, but it makes sense. “Because I killed you. God gave you to me, so we can be friends.”

_That’s sick_ , says her ghost, but quietly. _You’re sick. You’re a sick bloody psychopath and I…_

Helena waits a bit, but she doesn’t say anything else. Her face is a mask of regrets. Helena wishes she could touch it.

* * *

_So you kill all sorts of people_ , says Helena’s ghost after a while.

“No,” Helena says. “Only copies. All the same-faced sheep.”

Next to her, the ghost opens her mouth and then closes it again. She swallows whatever words she was going to say and then keeps going, wary. _You don’t kill kids._

Helena stiffens, hard, and her hands need to rip and tear and _rip_ but there is nothing to tear or rip or tear so she doesn’t. “ _No_ ,” she says. “Never. Not children. Not _anybody_ but copies and sinners.”

_Can you do something for me, then_ , says her ghost, in a voice like a car accident Helena drove past once and couldn’t stop looking at.

“What.”

_Can you write a letter_ , says the ghost, _to my kid._

“Copies can’t have babies,” says Helena obediently.

_Please_.

Helena tilts her head to the side. “What will you give me.”

_My name_ , says Helena’s ghost, sounding exhausted. _I’ll tell you my name._

* * *

_Siobhan,_

_Sarah died in a car accident in the river. It was really her this time and not a joke. She never got the chance to tell you but there were more than one of her. Beth Childs and Katja Obinger an_ [crossed out] [crossed out] [crossed out] _. She never got to tell you this too but she trusts you to take care of Kira and she is very sorry that you had to. You were a good mother to her and to Kira._

_Sincerely thank you,_

_A friend_

* * *

_Kira,_

_Your mother loved you very much. You were the bravest brightest thing in her whole life. She knows that you will be amazing always for the rest of your life and she loves you monkey and she is proud of you. She never wanted you to grow up alone Kira. She never wanted you to feel any of the anger or sadness that she felt. She is so sorry. She loves you._

_Sincerely thank you,_

_A friend_

_PS. I do not know what PS means but I think you are supposed to write it._

_PS PS. I am sorry and also please do not blame your mother for leaving because it was not her fault. I made her go and I did not mean to. If I had known about you Kira I would not have done this. Sorry._

_Sincerely thank you,_

_A friend_

* * *

Helena puts the notes into the mail slot in 1-4-8-Scotsburn-Avenue. Over her shoulder Sarah watches her and cries; her tears don’t hit the ground.

_You killed me_ , she says.

Helena shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat, hard. “It was a mistake,” she says. “I know now. You have a soul. I’m sorry.”

Sarah just stares at her with three eyes: the two eyes that still blink, and the one wet red eye that doesn’t see anything at all. _You should have known better_ , she says.

“Nobody taught me how to know better.”

_I know,_ Sarah says. _That’s the worst part of any of this_. She shoves her own hands into the pockets of Beth’s coat, so now they are standing the same way. Birds chirp in the trees by Siobhan’s front porch. Helena shouldn’t be staying here, but she doesn’t know where else to go.

“Sarah,” she says.

_What_.

“Where do I go now.”

_I don’t know_ , Sarah says, voice heavy and dark as iron. _I’ve got no bloody clue, Helena. I don’t know._ She watches Helena and then sighs, low with pity. _You can’t stay here, though_ , she says, like she understands that Helena needs Sarah to tell her something. Anything.

Helena nods once and then hops off the porch and heads into the city. She doesn’t know where she’s going, but Sarah said she can’t stay here and so she won’t. She makes for the street. After a second, Sarah follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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